


A Rainy Day In

by Everyday_Im_Preaching



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Banter, Breakfast in Bed, Chronic Pain, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Preaching/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Preaching
Summary: House is willingly going through withdrawal--everything hurts, and on his day off, there's nothing more that he'd like to do than waste away in bed. But nothing made a day better than having Wilson around to whine at.Now, if only he could get him to stay home.





	A Rainy Day In

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I'm finally getting around to finishing all the half-finished fics on my computer. I have a few more Hilson fics stockpiled, so be on the lookout--and if you're really, really keen on reading more, and decide that you like this fic, a comment down below really helps my motivation!
> 
> This fic was inspired by the first time I saw House kiss anyone. Stacy, specifically--he just kisses so softly, and I just couldn't get it out of my head. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

 

They weren’t going into work today.

Well, House wasn’t. And he was trying his damndest to get Wilson to stay home too.

“House, lay back down,” Wilson told him. He came over from where he’d been tying his tie into a windsor knot. “You aren’t getting up unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He laid a hand on House’s stomach, watching as he eased back against the bed.

“I feel like keeping you home is absolutely necessary,” House argued, obstinate. He wrapped a hand around Wilson’s wrist. “Cuddy doesn’t really need you, does she? I mean, she can’t need you more than I do. I’m the cripple.”

“And there are people at the hospital who are dying of cancer,” Wilson told him. He smoothed his hand over House’s stomach. His fingers caught House’s shirt and tugged at it. “You’re going through a lot of pain right now, from the withdrawal. Which means that walking on your leg is only going to make it worse.”

House let out a frustrated groan and slapped a hand against the covers. “That’s why I need you here. To prevent me from getting into trouble. Taking my meds—” He reached a hand up, just enough to dust his fingertips across Wilson’s jaw— Wilson leaned down into the touch, and then further into the gentle kiss that House pressed to the corner of his mouth. “ —you’re the best anti-drug out there.”

He could almost feel Wilson crumble into his hands.

“I have to go in. I have an appointment,” Wilson murmured against House’s mouth. He kissed him, once, and then pulled away. “I have several appointments.”

“It’s one day, come on,” House whined. “Cuddy doesn’t need you that bad. And you’re on call— say you’re sick, and if she still calls you in, _then_ she needs you.” He propped himself up on one arm. “Come back to bed.”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “House, if I call in now, they’re going to know it’s because you managed to drag me back to bed.” He turned away from him and went to grab his jacket off a nearby chair. “Call me if you need anything—and don’t abuse that, either. If you call me home for something unimportant, that cane’s going to find a new purpose.”

House’s mouth rounded and he made a soft cooing noise. “Does that mean spanking? I hope it does,” He winked at Wilson as he turned around. “Look, I’m serious. Stay home.” He let his arm slide out from under him, and rolled onto his back. “I’m not feeling the best.”

This had Wilson pausing.

“Mentally, physically?” Wilson tried to gather more information.

“Both,” House murmured out. He closed his eyes against the ceiling light, suddenly finding it too bright for his eyes. Pain flared in his leg and he grit his teeth. He hadn’t filled his vicodin prescription in a week now— and everything hurt, from the tip of his toes to small hairs on the back of his neck.

There was silence for a minute, followed by a soft, empathetic sigh. House knew he had won, even before he heard Wilson digging for his phone.

“You are a saint,” House muttered.

“No, I care about you. There’s a difference,” Wilson replied cheekily. “I’m going to make this phone call, and then I’m going to make you some tea. You’re going to drink it.”

House pouted, but it was faux and playful. “Yes doctor.”

Wilson pointed at him. “No. None of that,” He pressed the phone up to his ear. “Yes, Cuddy?” House watched as he shifted from one foot to the other, not even bothering to make his voice sound scratchy or sick. “Yes, I’m sorry. Today is…” He looked over at House, who wiggled his fingers at him. He frowned. “...it’s a bad day, for House. I know I have a full schedule, but I don’t feel safe leaving him at home.”

There was some chatter from the other side of the phone. Wilson nodded and made soft noises of agreement— and then he hung up.

“Excellent lie,” House congratulated, not even miffed that it involved him. “I didn’t know you’d sink low enough to lie about _me_ having a bad day.” He stretched his fingers up and folded them around his head. Off came Wilson’s tie and then he began to unbutton his shirt.

“I wasn’t lying,” Wilson replied. “I’m worried about you, so I’m staying home.” He looked over his shoulder. “You’re lucky that Cuddy has such a soft spot for you. Otherwise you’d be on your own.”

House pouted again. “Good thing that that would never have happened. Who doesn’t have a soft spot for me? I’m adorable.” He crossed his arms over his chest and watched as Wilson slipped out of the bedroom door. WIlson was unbearably sweet to him, and despite the mounting pain in his leg, he wanted to chase him down and cover his dumb, handsome face in kisses.

He didn’t know how long it’d been, since Wilson left; couldn’t have been more than five minutes or so— House had lain back down after fruitlessly searching for the television remote. He let out an exhausted sigh and flopped back down against the pillows. It was still dark outside and House could see the weak flickering of the dusk to dawn outside; it was fighting desperately against the oncoming sunlight, a battle it was sure to lose. Rain was beginning to peck at the sidewalk, and judging by the ramped up pain in his leg, the storm was only going to get worse.

“I made you something to eat, too,” WIlson announced as he returned to the bedroom. House’s attention snapped to him. A foldable tray was nestled in his hands, and then carefully set over his lap. “You should eat, before any of it gets cold,” He said.

“Oatmeal, toast, and eggs,” House observed, not ungratefully. He picked up the cup of tea and peered into it. “What is this? It looks a little too light for anything I normally have in the kitchen.”

Wilson let out a soft grunt as he got back to his feet. “Chamomile. I bought it on my way home yesterday,” He finished the last few buttons on his shirt and then tossed it on the nearby nightstand. That left him in his undershirt and House greedily took in the view.

Underneath all the layers he wore at the hospital, Wilson was broadly built— strong, but with thick limbs and a slight belly that was soft when House kissed or blew raspberries against it. Not only did this make him an excellent fuck and nice to look at, but it also made him exceptionally good at moving furniture.  

House licked at his lips and considered giving a whistle, or encouraging him to give a strip tease. Instead he simply stared, letting his eyes burn holes into Wilson as he stood there.

“I’m going to go get breakfast for myself,” Wilson told him. “Oh, stop staring. You see me naked all the time. An undershirt isn’t that impressive.”

“Never said it was impressive. But it is hot,” He took a sip of his tea, watching Wilson move to the door once again. “I’m wondering what it’s going to take to get you to strip down, come over here, and then fuck me,” He paused and pursed his lips. “Or suck my dick. I’m not picky.”

Wilson flicked his eyes from House’s tray to his face. He slowly leaned over and grabbed a hold of the headboard.  “If you finish your breakfast, I’m sure I could arrange something.”

“Oh, I like it when you make promises to me Jimmy,” House picked up a piece of toast. “And I also hope you like crumbs in the sheets. You ring the devil’s doorbell—”

“They’re your sheets,” Wilson told him, pushing off of the end of the bed to stand. “You want crumbs in your bed, then you can change them. If not, you can eat carefully or over that nice little tray I’ve put in your lap.”

“Why don’t you put yourself in my lap? Then we can forego the crumb issue altogether.” He adjusted himself and took another bite; crumbs fell from his mouth, but thankfully they hit the tray instead of the sheets. “Go. The faster we eat, the faster we can get to the fun part of the morning.”

Wilson shook his head and rolled his eyes, before actually exiting the room. When he returned it was with his own breakfast and a cup of coffee. House eyed it with jealousy, but didn’t bother trying to steal it. Yet. Wilson always used some kind of fancy creamer that tasted of chemicals and sugar—its flavour was great when it was from something secondhand, like a kiss. But in coffee it tasted like toothfairy piss.

The bed creaked with Wilson’s weight as he sat near House’s feet. He settled his plate in his lap, and then gently laid a hand on the lower calf of House’s bad leg. “How are you feeling?” He asked. The concern in his voice had House’s heart aching. Instead of responding, House drank his tea. “Greg,” Wilson murmured his name, voice even softer than before.

“It hurts,” House replied. He set his cup down. “A lot. Always does.” Wilson’s face became troubled, and he caressed House’s leg further, though he didn’t dare touch the sore area.

“I’m sorry that it hurts,” Wilson murmured. He lifted his hand and offered it to House. House eyed it warily. “But this is what’s best for you. Once you’re off the pills, once you’ve gone through the withdrawal— it’s likely that the pain will...be gone. Save for the stray ache on a rainy day.”

House slapped at Wilson’s hand and pushed it away. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t need you to give me a lecture about it. I know.” He turned his head away from Wilson to focus on the food in front of him. “That doesn’t make me happy about it.”

“When are you ever happy, House?” Wilson asked.

“No one is ever _really_ happy,” House murmured in response, though it didn’t sound like he believed it. “That’s just some lie made up by the government to make people work harder.” He dug his spoon into his oatmeal.

Wilson nodded along and then looked down at the floor. “I’m happy,” He announced.

“Happy? You’ve been divorced three times. No man that’s lost that many women has ever been _happy,_ ” House pointed out. He dug around in his oatmeal, eyeing the bits of fruit in it. “And now you’re stuck with me. You’ve struck out. God’s finally handed you the punishment you deserve.”

“How is being in love with you punishment?” Wilson questioned. He was hunched over slightly now. House went quiet as Wilson picked up his own toast and stared at it like it was some long lost tome or text that he couldn’t quite read. “I think I’m lucky. Not everyone gets to be in love with their best friend and have it reciprocated.”

House’s cheeks flared hotly and warmth blossomed in his chest. He swallowed it down. “Your punishment is being attracted to a cripple. And I’m a jerk. A really big one. I tell small children they’re dying,  break into people’s homes, routinely break up marriages— I mean, three marriages at the very least.”

“People fall in love with serial killers,” Wilson said with a shrug. “I figure you’re a step above that— plus, I think you’re charming.”

“Charming?”

Wilson nodded. “Not in a good way. Like...a puppy that chews on all of your expensive, antique furniture that you inherited from your great-grandma.” He looked over at House. “He’s an asshole, and he frustrates you, but you can’t help loving him anyway.”

He clicked his tongue and pursed his lips. “But you’re cuter than a puppy.” He held up his hand, thumb and forefinger a hairbreadth apart. “By about this much.”

“I’ll take it,” House replied. “Puppies are, and always will be, a ten on the cute scale. Which must make me at _least_ a ten-point-one.”

“I’d bump it up to an eleven,” Wilson corrected.

House held up his fingers, copying Wilson from earlier. “This doesn’t seem to be enough to be a full point. It’s really giving me the decimal vibe.”

“House, for the love of god,” Wilson muttered out. He set his cup of coffee on the floor and laid his now free hand on House’s leg once more. “Sometimes you make me want to kiss you stupid.”

“Well, depending on where you kiss, you might get your wish,” House replied. He pulled back and folded his hands over his stomach. Wilson looked up at him, unimpressed with his look of feigned innocence. “What? There are only two things that make people stupid.”

“Sex and money?” Wilson finished for him. “And I’m guessing you’re hoping for the former.”

House shrugged. “I’d prefer the former, but we both know I’ll take either.” He moved his tray aside, an obvious invitation. “Come up here, I’m done talking.”

Wilson snorted, and then the snort turned into a laugh. “No you’re not,” His lips stretched into a wide smile, and he shook his head. “You are _never_ done talking.” He set his own plate on the floor, and House knew that one of them would step in it later. “The day you shut up is the day that god comes down from heaven and smites you himself.”

“I look forward to it. I’m always a fan of smiting.” He wrapped his arms around Wilson’s neck as he straddled him, careful of his thigh. Wilson kissed the corner of his mouth, and his heart fluttered in his chest and how gentle it was. “Kiss me like you mean it,” He murmured.

“Oh, Greg,” Wilson murmured, kissing him again, just as soft. “I always mean it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Welcome to the end of this fic :D
> 
> Song for this fic:  
> Feelings by Hayley Kiyoko
> 
> Want to stay updated? Want to chat or shoot me a prompt? Have an idea that you'd like me to consider for this pairing? Feel free to click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to do all these things and more!


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